


Tailored

by shimadagans



Series: Playing Nice [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Body Modification, Building Your Own Dick For Science, Dark Age (Destiny), Exo Anatomy (Destiny), Exo | Exomind Sex, Explicit Consent, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Trans Male Character, Trying New Things in the Bedroom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:33:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27462757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shimadagans/pseuds/shimadagans
Summary: A collection of drabbles/one shots that take place in the 'Playing Nice' universe. Updated infrequently.Chapter 1: Meticulous[  “Exos...can fairly easily use modifications to fit our wants and needs, and they can be even further customized.” He tilts his head back to look at Shaxx properly, “Your would-be killer came prepared, that’s what I’m ‘getting at’.”It only takes a moment for the realization to bloom visibly across Shaxx’s face, followed quickly by a curious quirk to his mouth, almost a smile, “Interesting. That...makes a lot of sense, considering.” A pause, then he’s shifting Felwinter’s leg closer, further up, “Though, you’ve never...I wonder, is that something you can also do?” ]
Relationships: Felwinter/Shaxx (Destiny)
Series: Playing Nice [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996237
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	Tailored

**Author's Note:**

> Few things before you jump in:
> 
> 1) this COULD take place in the 'Playing Nice' universe anywhere in between Shaxx's first trip to the Iron Lords' domain and the events of Site 6. It SHOULD make sense and read just fine without prior knowledge of the main fic but in my mind this happens in that setting.  
> 2) Shaxx isn't written as trans in that work but I couldn't get the idea out of my head (thanks to who gave me all these ideas, you know who you are) so he IS trans here, and this is written by a trans author. Please don't be weird about that.  
> 3) This is. straight up porn. You've been warned, if the E rating didn't give it away.  
> 4) I have a very specific look for Shaxx's uncovered face in my mind, so this work references him having only one eye. Roll with it!
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy!

It starts as most things do between them: with a query.

Felwinter is laying on his side with Shaxx’s arm slung over him, teetering on the edge of too warm for his gradually slowing fans to keep up with. He can’t bring himself to bother with telling Shaxx to move, though, when the man in question is practically radiating contentedness from behind him, his chest moving steadily against Felwinter’s back.

Eventually, Shaxx’s arm curls closer around him, and he feels the other’s lips moving against the back of his head, a pleased hum, “I swear, every time we’re together like this, you surprise me again. I don’t think I could ever tire of you.”

Even still, years into what Felwinter is hesitantly starting to call a  _ relationship _ with perhaps the strongest-willed person he’s ever met, the ease with which Shaxx lays bare his words startles him before it charms him. Eventually, though, the charm wins over, and he traces one of the many scars lining Shaxx’s thick arms, “Do I? Perhaps it’s more that you’re insatiable.”

It’s a weak ‘insult’, too tinged in fondness to be anything but a tease, and they both know it. Felwinter has always held his cards close to his chest, and Shaxx has never asked more from him than he knows they can both handle.

Shaxx’s first answer is to pull him even closer, winding both arms around Felwinter’s still-warm frame. His second answer comes as a languid murmur somewhere against his neck, “Maybe I am insatiable, but for you especially. You’ve always got something up your sleeve, don’t you?” There’s a dazed sort of chuckle, “Even before, with that one Exo, that was nothing like being with you has ever been.”

There’s a tepid flare of jealousy within him before Felwinter can quiet it, but it’s hard to think of Shaxx’s attention still lying elsewhere when he’s surrounded by him like this. Curiosity outweighs anything else after a moment of processing, “And what was that like? I do not believe I ever really asked.”

Shaxx takes a deep breath behind him, lips brushing the edge of where his neck plating ends and the synthetic musculature of his shoulders begins. His fingers tap idly at his side, “Well, they tried to kill me afterwards, for starters.” Felwinter huffs out a static breath at that, and Shaxx continues. “They seemed to assume I’d take immediate control, which, you know, I don’t necessarily mind, but…”

“Oh, I know,” Felwinter says, only the tiniest bit smug.

“Anyway,” Shaxx clears his throat, one hand dragging down Felwinter’s side until it sits just below his hip, “It was less personal, but they also had some different  _ equipment _ .”

This gives Felwinter pause.

Shaxx has never seemed to find his body lacking, quite the opposite, in fact. It almost seems like he can’t get enough, nearly greedy in the way he wrings climax after climax out of him, always enthusiastic in his approach. In turn, he’s never found a real flaw with Shaxx’s, either, despite the man’s unspoken insecurities. Felwinter is almost always more than happy to reciprocate, too, especially as he’s gotten more comfortable with their rapport, and he derives a very specific type of satisfaction from seeing Shaxx come completely undone under his touch alone.

But the word  _ still _ gives him pause.

“Did they, now?” he asks, more contemplative than curious now, and Shaxx must hear some change in his tone, because he gives his leg a reassuring squeeze.

“Could never hold a candle to you, of course,” Shaxx says, readily, “But yes. They had a very distinct mod, more phallic than anything else. Had some strange ridges to it.”

Felwinter tilts his head to the side as Shaxx mouths at his neck, thinking. 

He’s hardly an expert on Exo anatomy beyond his own, but what he’s read and what little he’s heard from others suggests that for once, he has something in common with other Exos--that nearly all Exo frames are built with room for customization, for adaptability on many fronts. Despite whatever misgivings he might have about  _ why _ that is the case (and despite how many nasty words he’s exchanged with a certain fellow Iron Lord about the topic), having a generic mod to work with does have its benefits. If he so chooses, he could use a wide array of options for any number of titillating situations.

This means, however…

“Shaxx,” Felwinter says, rolling over to face him. The man in question loosens his hold on him so he has plenty of space to resettle before drawing him close again so they’re facing one another, “Did you ever consider that this other Exo came to you seeking exactly one thing and one thing alone?”

“Well, they made it pretty clear what they were looking for. Laid it on pretty heavily,” Shaxx replies, drawing one of Felwinter’s legs closer with one massive hand. His eyebrows furrow slightly, “Though I don’t believe that’s what you’re really getting at.”

Felwinter taps his fingers against Shaxx’s hand on his leg, choosing his words, “Exos...can fairly easily use modifications to fit our wants and needs, and they can be even further customized.” He tilts his head back to look at Shaxx properly, “Your would-be killer came prepared, that’s what I’m ‘getting at’.”

It only takes a moment for the realization to bloom visibly across Shaxx’s face, followed quickly by a curious quirk to his mouth, almost a smile, “Interesting. That...makes a lot of sense, considering.” A pause, then he’s shifting Felwinter’s leg closer, further up, “Though, you’ve never...I wonder, is that something you can also do?” There’s a glint to his eye now.

Felwinter half wants to admonish Shaxx for being ready to go again so quickly, especially considering their current conversation topic, but the way his single pupil lights up at the possibility is too intriguing to ignore, “Perhaps.”

Shaxx finally pulls him flush against him and, yes, he’s already most of the way to wet again when Felwinter trails a hand down to check. “Oh, you’re absolutely devious,” he rumbles, already chasing the wiring that covers his chest, “You’ve been holding out on me.”

The accusation doesn’t hold much weight with Shaxx mouthing at his jaw, but Felwinter allows himself a quiet little grin, “You never asked.”

Shaxx doesn’t seem to hold it against him if the way he groans when Felwinter manages to properly get his hand between their bare bodies is any indication.

Felwinter has always been meticulous, and a few weeks (and one surprisingly smooth visit to Orewing for materials) later, he thinks he’s managed to meet his own high expectations, just in time for Shaxx’s next visit to the ground of the Iron Lords.

Following a schematic he’d stumbled upon a while back in his ongoing quest for Warmind bunkers and their ‘culture-rich’ data, he’s methodically put together and tested a functioning mod not unlike the one Shaxx described, though he’s adapted it to his own tastes, of course.

The schematic he’d found was laden with plenty of obscene, lewd subtext, but Felwinter had forgone all the little notes about fluid output for this test run. No need to get ahead of himself when this was mostly to gauge Shaxx’s reaction. He’d managed, thankfully, to get ahold of materials in similar coloring to the rest of his body--the idea of attaching a neon phallic mod to himself, even temporarily, was frankly appalling. The author of the schematic clearly had questionable taste in aesthetic.

Felspring had laughed at him, openly, at one point, as he’d been working on wiring the damn thing correctly. “I was  _ sure _ you were never going to find a use for this one,” she snickered, “Now look at you! Making a special dick specifically to impress your favorite Warlord.”

He’d given her a rather deadpan look, even for him, before going back to fussing with his project, “Don’t use such...crude language to describe it.”

“That’s what it is, though!” she’d crowed, and he’d given up hope of getting her to let this one go. She’d eventually deigned to help him, after much ribbing, and it had felt more like normal work than some grand gesture.

Despite his reservations--it had been awhile since he’d last used any mod besides his default one--the new mod fit perfectly, and a few quick calibration tests (definitely not spent thinking about  _ exactly _ how he planned to use it on Shaxx) proved that his careful approach had paid off. He’d made a few changes to the base, besides the  _ dreadful _ suggested color--a tweak to the dimensions because Shaxx usually, constantly asked for  _ more _ of his fingers,  _ deeper, _ and a few implants along the sides and base. 

Nothing too drastic, because he wasn’t quite sure how far removed from human genitalia he could go and have Shaxx still be interested, but he’d made sure to follow the fine print on how the mod should react to various stimuli, how it should act ‘at rest’. He’d chosen a silicone-based material for the make of it, based on notes in the margins that suggested it would provide the most ‘realistic’ experience for both of them.

“You really are putting a lot of thought into this,” Felspring commented, idly watching him put the finishing touches on the thing on the eve of Shaxx’s return to the peak, “Really makes me think about how I was sure one of you was going to strangle the other back when you first met.”

“That happened at least once,” Felwinter had replied, satisfied with the feedback the datapad next to him was reporting, “You laughed at me after you brought me back.”

He runs one last calibration test before tucking the mod away until Shaxx’s arrival. Anticipation eats at his joints and nerves all the next day, from when he spots Shaxx’s helmet cresting the walkway up to the rickety bridge between the two sides of the peak, all through the flurry of meetings they both have to attend, surrounded by all the useless politics, and all the way up to top of the slippery stairs to his observatory hours later.

Felwinter feels like he’s practically vibrating as he quickly types in the code that grants them access, and Shaxx stills him with a gentle hand on his back, “You’ve been a little far away all day, something the matter?”

When he turns around to look at him clearly, snow drifting down with purpose around them, Shaxx’s helmet shines in the dim overhead light. He reigns himself in and nods towards the door, hoping his tone is even enough, “Yes, just a lot to think about.”

_ As if you haven’t been waiting to get him back here for weeks now, _ Felspring giggles at him. He chooses to ignore her.

They get settled together in his bed without incident after that, speaking in murmurs about anything and nothing, though the low thrill in his lower spine doesn’t quite disappear. It just fizzles into a simmering hum that he’s almost surprised Shaxx can’t hear, a buzz in his fingertips and his mind. 

Shaxx bites first, as he often does when he comes to visit, as if being apart from Felwinter for even these short amounts of time is too much for him to bear. Thick-corded arms wrap around his middle and Shaxx takes a deep breath in. “Missed you,” he says, tilting his head down to kiss him, and Felwinter relishes in him for a moment, teasing even.

“Did you?” he replies, fingers idle at Shaxx’s side, and the Warlord huffs out a breath of a laugh.

“You know the answer to that,” Shaxx’s fingers toy with one of the sensitive little feedback sensors tucked into his back in retaliation, and Felwinter narrows his eyes at him, metal plates sliding into place.

He leans back a little, still facing Shaxx on his side, one hand coming up to cup his chin, right by the jagged scar that bears into bone. “I do,” he admits, “And I...missed you too.”

The dopey little grin Shaxx flashes at him his more than enough to make up for the mortification of his admittance. When the man leans forward to try to kiss him, though, Felwinter puts a hand between them. Shaxx grunts, confused, when he covers his mouth.

Felwinter asks, “Do you trust me to show you how much I missed you?” and Shaxx’s eye goes wide. Then, he nods, quickly, eagerly, and Felwinter lets his fingers linger for just a second longer over his lips before letting him go, “Good. Finish getting undressed and face the wall, on your side.”

Shaxx doesn’t seem to waste any time following his directions; when Felwinter peeks over his shoulder from where he’s stooped to retrieve his latest personal project, he can make out every line in the musculature of his back in the dim lighting of his quarters. He takes a moment and a breath he doesn’t exactly need to get the mod aligned to his sensor grid. It comes online with a little jolt of something like static. Making sure Shaxx is still facing away, he approaches the bed again, coming back to rest with his chest to Shaxx’s back.

Felwinter tucks his face right underneath the strong curve of Shaxx’s shoulder blade, wasting no time in reaching around to grasp for a generous handful of his chest, tangling their legs together and kicking the blankets to the side. Shaxx responds with a delighted hum, arching just a little into his touch, one of his larger hands coming up to rest over Felwinter’s over his pectoral.

Felwinter hides a grin against Shaxx’s spine, nudging his legs with his own until he’s pressed more firmly against his ass, and he waits, patiently as a viper in the low grass. Shaxx is more than happy to grind back against him, just a tad, and then he pauses, thoughtfulness visible in every inch of his posture, an open book Felwinter is particularly keen on reading.

“Winter?” Shaxx rumbles, “Did you--are you, you  _ didn’t _ \--”

“Shh,” Felwinter rubs his hand in a slow, even circle over Shaxx’s chest, and when he rolls his hips, calculated, he earns himself a gasp and a low curse as his new mod curves against the cleft of Shaxx’s ass.

“That’s  _ definitely _ new,” Shaxx huffs, trying to shuffle around, probably so he can get a look at what he’s working with. Felwinter, however, hooks his free hand’s fingers over his shoulder, near his throat, and Shaxx goes still enough that it’s easy to grind against him again, almost greedy. Felwinter has to admit that, despite his own attention to detail, he didn’t expect this to feel so...sensitive. It’s easy to get lost, already, in the tactile sensation of his mod against Shaxx’s skin--or at least it is until Shaxx starts squirming again.

So, Felwinter reaches down, slow enough that Shaxx can tell where he’s going, until he can slide a finger against Shaxx’s folds, at first just to check how wet he already is, then to tease. Shaxx makes a breathy noise somewhere above him as he dips two fingers into him, just the slightest bit. Immediately, Shaxx tries to press down, trying to force Felwinter’s fingers deeper, and he has to stop him with a firm grip on his hip.

“Patience,” he tuts, and Shaxx huffs at him, “You won’t even let me see what you’re doing,” but he doesn’t try to move further. He shifts his whole frame lower until he can somewhat comfortably slide his mod cleanly through the gap in Shaxx’s legs, and that  _ really _ gets Shaxx’s attention.

“Oh, damn you,” he gasps, grinding against his mod in earnest now, “You went and got yourself a cock after that conversation, didn’t you?”

“I went and  _ made _ one,” Felwinter corrects him, smug, though he can’t deny the genuine carnal appeal in spreading Shaxx’s slick over his mod with every slow, controlled roll of his hips, “Do you want to see it?”

Shaxx nods quickly, and only when Felwinter taps his still-slick fingers against his thigh does he answer verbally, “Yes,I thought I was making that fairly obvious.”

“Communication is important,” Felwinter retorts, and Shaxx swats half-heartedly at his arm as they rearrange themselves: Shaxx settling back against the wall behind the bed’s front and Felwinter settling on his knees facing him, just a foot or so away from Shaxx’s spread legs.

There’s always been something so...empowering, so charged for him about knowing all of Shaxx’s attention is on him. That feeling is amplified at least tenfold as he watches Shaxx watch  _ him _ slowly take the whole length of his mod in hand and stroke. It’s tougher than he thought it would be to concentrate, a little rough-feeling at the edges of his sensors, but the way Shaxx looks at him like he wants to eat him alive makes it more than worth it.

He’s still feeling a bit...dry, though, so he gets Felspring (despite her grumbling) to transmat the little bottle of lube he  _ now _ keeps around--due to Shaxx’s influence--into his free hand. As he fusses with the cap of the damn thing, Shaxx starts leaning forward, closer, until Felwinter stops him short with a simple, patient “Don’t,” at which he flops back against the bed with a huff.

“Are you just going to make me watch?” Shaxx asks, bordering on petulant, and though Felwinter almost hears a challenge in those words, he decides to be indulgent.

“Only for a moment,” Felwinter replies, and before Shaxx can get too restless, “Why don’t you show me how much you’d like to  _ not _ just watch?” 

There’s only the slightest bit of hesitance in the way Shaxx reaches to spread himself open, and Felwinter sighs fondly at the sight, one he’s sure he could enjoy for hours on end. Shaxx doesn’t usually have that kind of patience, though, and that seems to be just as true today if the way the Warlord quickly starts fingering himself open tells him anything. 

He watches for a few long moments, languidly stroking himself while Shaxx watches him in return, lips parted slightly as they take each other in. Felwinter admits to himself that even he is starting to feel a bit impatient when Shaxx makes a little noise caught somewhere between a groan and a breath.

“Come here,” he says, and practically before the words leave his vocalizer, Shaxx is advancing, boxing him in against the other end of the bed and reaching down to touch him. “Hands only--” he barely manages before Shaxx is eagerly exploring his mod, slick fingers wrapping around the base of it and dragging upwards.

It’s all he can do to not immediately press up into Shaxx’s loose hold, gasping static and a bit bewildered by how  _ much _ tactile feedback it’s giving him. The Warlord in question chuckles breathlessly at him, and Felwinter grips his arm to slow him down. “You  _ made _ this?” Shaxx asks, fingers forming a loose circle around his mod and moving in one steady motion, “Honestly, I’m flattered.”

“It wasn’t  _ just _ for you,” Felwinter retorts, before Shaxx drags his thumb over the tapered tip and his whole body shudders with a strange sound he distantly realizes came from him. “I’ll admit, I was curious,” he adds, after he gets his voice back.

Shaxx seems rather invested in his mod, lighting up internal sensors Felwinter isn’t sure he’s ever felt, even as he mutters, “Aren’t you always?”

Felwinter reaches up to grip the back of Shaxx’s neck in retaliation, and Shaxx’s hold on him goes even looser in return. “On your hands and knees,” he commands, deciding they’ve both waited long enough. When he releases him, Shaxx goes rather readily, peering over his shoulder at him. It’s not an unfamiliar view as he trails his hand around to slide teasing fingers through Shaxx’s folds once more, but the feeling of dragging his mod against Shaxx’s ass with purpose  _ is _ new and different in ways he hadn’t expected, a sort of thrill he swears he can feel in his wiring.

“Don’t tease,” Shaxx demands, but it comes out more like a whine as Felwinter guides the head of his mod lower, dragging it against Shaxx’s waiting hole. He grips Shaxx’s hip with his free hand to keep him from bucking back as he shifts, grinding slowly against him. Shaxx makes a choked sound towards the front of the bed as Felwinter almost tortuously presses into him. He goes so slow partially to drive Shaxx up the wall, but also because he’s nearly overwhelmed by the massive influx of stimuli--a change in temperature as he presses into Shaxx’s heat, differences in pressure and traction, secondary sensors along the bottom of the mod alerting him to exactly how soft and slick Shaxx is. It’s enough that he has to pause about three quarters of the way in, Shaxx huffing at him as Felwinter grips his hip harder to ground himself against the variety of feedback.

“You’re...tight,” he manages, and his voice sounds quiet and strained even to him, as loud as all the more immediate stimuli is, like a wave of solid pleasure that crashes over him, almost crushes him.

Shaxx, to his credit, hisses a curse and tries, again, to rock back against him, straining against Felwinter’s hold on him, “No shit, Winter.” He stops trying to move when he realizes Felwinter  _ hasn’t _ moved, trying to peer at him over the broad slope of his shoulder, “You alright?”

Now with both hands spread over Shaxx’s skin to better ground himself, Felwinter spares himself another moment of pure processing before he responds. “Yes,” he says, finally, and he feels as well as hears Shaxx let out a breath, “It is...different.”

“Good different?” Shaxx asks, then gasping as Felwinter slides the rest of the way in, bracing himself further forward as Felwinter pushes down on his back just a tad.

“I believe so,” he returns, pressing Shaxx down enough that it’s difficult for the larger man to do much but take what he’s given. Experimentally, Felwinter shifts, drawing his mod out completely before inching it back in, and Shaxx makes a sound vaguely like a complaint, “You’re being too soft.”

Felwinter hushes him, smoothing a hand over his back as he adjusts to this new wave of sensation, like pinpricks of delight lining his midsection, a gradual build-up of pleasure not unlike what he usually experiences when Shaxx is working him over. He pulls out again, and Shaxx huffs impatiently at him, so this time he slams back into him with his full weight, the Warlord rewarding him with a choked-out groan. Felwinter’s whole sensor grid lights up with feedback, the ridges at the base of the mod stretching Shaxx around him.

“Yes, like that--” Shaxx hisses, and when Felwinter looks further up the bed, his whole back is tense as he grips at the sheets of the bed, head bowed. The view combined with the pleasure that spikes through him when he ruts closely against Shaxx, once, twice--it’s enough to spur him into a brutal pace, gripping Shaxx’s hip tightly enough that he knows (from experience) it will bruise.

Shaxx takes it well, of course he does, gasping and panting and asking for “More, harder--”, and Felwinter gives it to him readily, because at the end of things, he’s prone to some weakness, and Shaxx happens to be one of those. The pressure building somewhere near the base of his spine and all along the length of the mod rises and rises, until he’s sure the damn thing is going to short out.

“Close,” Shaxx grunts, so muffled by the sheets that it’s hard to make out exactly what he’s saying, but the way Shaxx clenches around him and the desperation in the single utterance can’t be misconstrued. Felwinter doesn’t slow, gripping Shaxx by the ass now and making sure each thrust hits home, even as the edges of his own senses start going sharp yet fuzzy. He reaches around with his free hand, trusting Shaxx to stay as he’s pushed him, to rub over his clit in fast, tight little circles, and Shaxx’s whole body seizes up and sparks with Light underneath him as he peaks, gasping and groaning, a delightful sight.

Felwinter goes to pull out, quite sure that Shaxx will want at least a breather this time, but the fool reaches back to grip at his arm, “No, wait, keep going--” and when Felwinter hesitates further, “ _ Please _ .”

It’s hard to deny Shaxx, really, especially when they’re like this, so intertwined that Felwinter is having a hard time differentiating between where he ends and Shaxx starts, so he bows his frame close to Shaxx, pressing him further into the bed and absolutely ramming into him, chasing the dual edge of pleasure, hissing warmth from his mouth and the vents all over his body. Shaxx whimpers below him, a few stray Arc tingles racing off him, but doesn’t stop him, quite contrary--he seems to be trying to grind back against him in time, still, even as out-of-sorts as he seems to be.

It’s no fault of his own, really, that he climaxes so soon afterwards, hips stuttering as the final wave of feedback threatens to absolutely overwhelm him, as if every sensor he has is being pushed to its limit, then past it as Shaxx’s warmth consumes him. When he blinks back into reality, he’s draped over Shaxx’s back with the Warlord still panting below him, skin warm and sweaty. 

When he actually pulls out and away, there’s a slight sound of perhaps protest, but Shaxx makes no move to stop him when he fetches a towel he’d thought ahead to put aside. He manages to convince Shaxx to roll over with his hands, though the Warlord grumbles at him. “Good for you?” Felwinter asks, once he’s sure he’s gotten use of his voice back under control, carefully wiping him down, and Shaxx nods, though his gaze remains drawn towards the mod still hanging between Felwinter’s thighs.

Felwinter lets him look, finds a sense of pride in his gaze, even;  _ he _ did this to Shaxx,  _ he’s  _ who Shaxx is looking at like that. When he reaches down to deactivate and remove the mod, Shaxx stops him, again, a hand on his arm as he shifts to settle closer to him, drawing Felwinter near with a look on his face one could call mischievous. 

“What else can this mod do, I wonder?” he asks, and, before Felwinter can stop him, he’s ducking his head into Felwinter’s lap.

The other questions can wait for later, he supposes.


End file.
